


Toby

by Snow_Glory



Series: Catastrophes [5]
Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Aramis has a cat problem, Bob the goat, Cats, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Spoilers for Season 3, set post S3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-17
Updated: 2016-06-17
Packaged: 2018-07-15 13:20:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7223905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snow_Glory/pseuds/Snow_Glory
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Warning - Spoilers for S3. All of it.</p>
<p>Aramis remembers JJ and Bob is a bad goat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Toby

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Buckeye01](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Buckeye01/gifts).



> For Buckeye01 to cheer her up :) This isn't anything special, honest!
> 
> If you've managed to not read the tags or the summary and get this far not realizing that it's set a couple years past season 3, then this is your last warning!

Toby

  
  


This day started out awful years ago and continued to be awful years later if you asked Aramis. He sat alone and cold in the graveyard, staring at the graves of twenty-one  Musketeers. There were many more of his brothers buried here, but only this twenty-one held his attention. The rain was pouring down on him, soaking the fine clothing he wore, and as usual, he hadn’t thought to bring a cloak.

There always seemed to be some inclement weather to mark the arrival of Good Friday. Rain, fog, thunderstorms, snowstorms… he could go on. If you asked his brothers, they would likely say there’d been just as many sunny, warm days. But Aramis never saw beyond the bleakness this day represented. Good Friday was so many things. It was the day Jesus died on the cross earning his Father’s forgiveness in his children. That was perhaps the most important reason to mourn the day. But it was also the day Aramis lost twenty of his good friends in a slaughter that only war could rival. It was around this day five years later, that he lost Marsac after the deserter tried to kill Captain Treville. It was also the day he lost his beloved cat, JJ.

He hadn’t thought of JJ in a long time, his fluffy, white cat named after his former captain Jean Treville. How he missed running his hands through her wild fur and having her sidle up to him, purring in content. He missed how she would terrorize the garrison, ruling over it as though she was the Queen. He felt so honored that JJ allowed Aramis to be a part of her life, despite how short it actually was.

Even Athos cat and Porthos cat, while wonderful pets, didn’t have JJ’s zest for life. The two cats his friends gave him years ago to help ease his broken heart, weren’t the most cuddly things in the world. Porthos cat snuggled only with Athos and spent the majority of his time with Athos. The other one, Athos cat, didn’t like anyone or anything. He would slink in the shadows and follow Aramis around, protecting him, but was rarely seen. Aramis actually couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen AC, he made a mental note to track down the cat later.

Aramis sighed and sat back against the tree that wasn’t doing a good job of keeping him dry. The graveyard was a muddy, lumpy mess. Nature had claimed this land, her grass growing over top the flattened mounds of the graves. Flowers, bushes, and small trees surrounded the area, providing a sense of peace for those that visited their loved ones here. Aramis rested his head on the tree and closed his eyes, allowing his thoughts to wander where they may.

 

* * *

 

 

He woke up later when a warm hand landed on his shoulder. It was the Captain of the Musketeers.

“I thought you’d be here. I didn’t realize what day it was until the church bells rang signaling the end of mass.”

“I must have fallen asleep…” Aramis sat up a little straighter and smiled at his friend. “What urgent need does the great captain require, that he would trudge through a muddy graveyard to find me?”

“It seems our minister to France has gone missing, you wouldn’t know where he was would you?”  D’Artagnan asked. He sat down beside Aramis, bumping his shoulder against the others in friendship.

Aramis smiled, eyes crinkling in mirth. Apparently his quick jaunt to the graveyard had actually ended up being a few hour’s worth nap in the mud. In hindsight, he should have told someone where he was going, but he didn't want anyone following him. He wanted to be alone.

“I have not seen him today,” He responded.

D’Artagnan looked to Aramis, one eyebrow raised. “Half of Paris is looking for you, Aramis. You wouldn’t think it was odd if one of the most important people in France went missing during the war with Spain? The Queen is frantic and the King is ready to declare treason on whoever has abducted you. The musketeer cadets were dispatched to all areas of Paris in search for you. If you leave it much longer, I am sure that Porthos will be called back from the war front.”

Aramis ran his hand through his hair and then smirked. “It comforts my heart to hear that my son's worried for me. He’s still a child, though, and will forgive my transgressions. The Queen, ahh I will be lucky to see the dawn.”

D'Artagnan laughed, “she is a formidable woman, you’d do well to remember that.”

The conversation died off in companionable silence for a few moments as neither of them made any effort to move. Aramis allowed his mind to wander again as he stared out at the graves.

“I used to wonder if there was anything I could have done differently to change what happened in Savoy,” Aramis whispered. He leaned against d’Artagnan’s shoulder, enjoying the warmth that radiated off the man. Aramis had been outside in the rain long enough that there wasn’t much body heat remaining. He knew he would have to get indoors soon or he was going to catch his death.

“I wondered that for years, with my Father's death. If I hadn't insisted we stop at that Inn or if I'd been quicker, could I have stopped those men? Would he be alive? But then I realized that I would never have come to Paris and challenged Athos like I did. I might still be a Musketeer, but I don't think any of you would have taken notice of me.”

Aramis smiled, remembering the day d'Artagnan tried to murder the greatest swordsman in Paris. “That was quite the entrance my brother. You had earned Athos’s loyalty the second you stayed to help save him. We didn't let people close, each for our own sordid reasons.”

“ Yes, well my point was going to be, don't let the ghosts of your past overwhelm you. There could have been many things you could change, but at what cost? Everything has a price… it's the way of the world. You lost a lot of friends that day , including JJ, but you gained Athos, Porthos and me!”

“Yes, I did. Thank you d'Artagnan. Now my dear rescuer please save me from these ghostly abductors and return me to my palace.”

D'Artagnan raised his eyebrow again as Aramis held out his hand to be lifted from the ground. “Your palace?”

“I'm the one that does all the paperwork, no one would notice if I placed it in my name,” Aramis responded. He threw his arm over d'Artagnan's shoulder once he was standing and asked, “should I make your rescue look convincing? I can hobble around for a couple of days.”

“And what, tell everyone I rescued you from that fearsome orange tabby that's been following you for weeks?”

“What!” Aramis spun around, puzzled, looking for a cat somewhere.  There was nothing. “I don’t see a… oh! OH what an adorable petite ball of fur!”

D'Artagnan was positive he had never heard such a high pitched squeal before, especially coming from a grown man. His friend raced for the bushes near the opening to the graveyard and dove in, rustling the leaves until he retrieved his quarry.

He spun around with a triumphant look on his face, holding a scraggly orange kitten in the palms of his hands. It was still damp from the rain earlier and too thin, as strays usually were. D'Artagnan didn't think the cat belonged to anyone, so no one would miss it should Aramis decide to adopt it.

Aramis brought the kitten to his face and snuggled it. The kitten stuck out its petite paw and booped Aramis on the nose, making the man laugh. It was an adorable scene and d’Artagnan couldn’t help but laugh himself.

“Oh d’Artagnan,” Aramis said breathlessly. “She’s so affectionate! She’s just like JJ, except she’s the wrong color, and has less hair and isn’t a Persian cat.”

“Yes,” d’Artagnan responded, trying to refrain from rolling his eyes. “The similarities are astounding.”

 

* * *

  
  


The cat sat on Aramis' shoulder the rest of the walk back, while the two men conversed. It wasn’t often the two got to spend anytime time together just chatting, while the war was going on.

By the time they reached the garden pavilion at the palace, the rest of Aramis’ animals had come out. They circled Aramis sniffing at the newest member of their ragtag family. Athos cat, Porthos cat, Aramis jr, and the goat Bob were there. Even Porthos’ barn owl, Minerva, swooped in to inspect whether the orange cat would be prey or friend.

The Queen was pacing back and forth, joined by her son Louis jr. It was a comical sight, watching the young King pace behind his mother, bumping into her as she stopped and pivoted to go in the opposite direction. When Aramis and d’Artagnan walked into the gardens, she gasped, hand flying to her mouth in worry up seeing her minister in his current state. Covered in mud from the waist down and soaked through from the rain earlier, Aramis did look like he'd been assaulted.

“Aramis!” She gasped. “What happened? are you okay? Why is there a cat on your shoulder?”

She rushed forward to embrace him, stopping just shy as she realized she was in public. The young King did not hesitate and raced forward, jumping into Aramis’ arms. The orange cat flew off of Aramis’ shoulders meowing as it landed with grace on the ground at their feet.

“Louis! you are far too old to be jumping into Aramis’ arms like that. It is not becoming of a King!” Anne admonished her son. At nearly 9 years old the small King wasn’t quite so small anymore, resembling his father more and more every day.

D’Artagnan smiled fondly at Aramis interacting with the King. The queen and Aramis were doing a wonderful job in ensuring that Louis would be a great King to the people of Paris.

Aramis chuckled and set the king down on the ground before his clothing soiled the expensive linens that Louis jr. wore. “I am fine your majesties, I was merely visiting the graves of some musketeers on the anniversary of their deaths. My apologies for not informing anyone where I had gone. Luckily I had a gallant Musketeer to rescue me and our newest friend here.” He said referring to the cat prowling at his feet.

Louis, slightly put out at being deprived of his minister in favor of the animals, glared at Aramis. “Since you made us worried all day, and because I am King, I should get to name the cat.”

Aramis and d’Artagnan shared a glance and grinned before bowing to Louis and Anne.

“It will be as you wish, your majesty,” D’Artagnan said. “Have you thought of a name or will you take some time?”

They watched as Louis knelt down to the cat’s level and peered into its eyes. The kitten, as if recognizing it was standing before royalty, puffed up her little chest and straightened her legs.

“I will call it Toby.” The King said proudly. The mitten meowed her consent.

Aramis liked the name, it seemed fitting for the sweet, orange kitten. It also helped that Louis liked it, for it meant the cat could prowl around the castle as it pleased. And if Aramis was being truthful, he could use another cuddly pet like JJ was to him.

Before Aramis could agree with Louis, a loud cry resonated through the gardens. Bob the goat, wanting the attention of her own, raced towards the king and Toby. The Queen cried out, but no one was close enough to Louis to prevent the collision. Goat and child went flying into a puddle of mud in a tangle of arms and legs. For a long moment, there was no sound as everyone tried to process what happened.

The silence was broken as Bob stood up and shook her body knocking mud off her coat and splattering it all over the Queen.

“How… what…” She stuttered. She lifted her arms out to her sides shaking her hands of the mud splattered all over them and frowned. "My dress is ruined!"

“Ha! Maman, you look funny,” Louis said. He gathered up a clump of mud and threw it at Aramis. It landed with a squelch in the center of his blue jacket. “And now Aramis matches.”

The minister looked, mouth agape, at the mud covering his chest, to the mud splattered Queen and finally rested on the mud-drenched King.

D’Artagnan laughed at the incredulous look on Aramis’ face. “If you three could see yourselves--”

D’Artagnan’s next words were cut off as a clump of mud smacked into the side of his head and dribbled down his face.

“Ahh thank you, Your Majesty, it wouldn’t be fair to have left d'Artagnan out of our fun,” Aramis said, bowing to the Queen who was the one that threw the ball of mud at the musketeer captain.

D’Artagnan grumbled, indignant and gathered up his own ball of mud. He swung it at Aramis, who deftly avoided being hit. It wasn’t long before squeals and laughter rang out through the gardens as the group of four ran around pelting each other with mud. The animals barked and meowed, chasing each other trying to avoid the mud splatters.

 

* * *

  
  


Meanwhile, off near the entrance to the gardens Athos and Porthos stood. They'd just returned from being away and stood in awe at the scene before them. The King, the Queen, the Minister of France and the Captain of the Musketeers were slinging mud at one another and squealing like children. The animals were barking and meowing and scrambling around the group, trying to avoid being trampled by the muddy humans.

“Please tell me,” Athos said, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers. “That we didn’t leave Paris in the hands of these fools.”

  
****


End file.
